


The Power of Three(somes)

by monimala



Category: Charmed (TV 2018)
Genre: F/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-16
Updated: 2019-11-16
Packaged: 2021-02-07 11:23:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21457261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/monimala/pseuds/monimala
Summary: Takes place after 2.6, "When Sparks Fly," and tackles the messy emotions Macy and Harry might be experiencing thanks to Jimmy's machinations...and what may be haunting their dreams.She doesn’t know what’s real and what isn’t. If she’s having sex with one of them or both of them or no one at all.
Relationships: Harry Greenwood/Macy Vaughn, James Westwell/Macy Vaughn/Harry Greenwood
Comments: 10
Kudos: 79





	The Power of Three(somes)

The dreams get worse, not better, after Harry vanquishes the Darklighter. One Harry staring into her eyes, so sweet and gentlemanly and earnest. The other at her back, whispering things against her neck that don’t qualify as sweet or gentlemanly by any definition. _Come home_, he purrs like he did the first time he reached out to her. And then _come for me, just come._ Stroking his hands down her sides, clinging to her hips like he did in that penthouse in Manhattan. While the good Harry, _her_ Harry, leans in to kiss her mouth. Asking “May I?” because he would never demand, never just take. Macy awakens drenched in sweat, drenched between her legs, terrified and turned on. With the echo of the assassin’s laughter ringing in her ears.

She’s no stranger to erotic fantasies. Her sisters might think she’s repressed—and, yeah, they’d be right—but her fantasies are the one place she’s not afraid to lose control. Until now. Until this. It’s beyond Idris Elba and Morris Chestnut and a can of whipped cream. It’s _Harry_. And his evil mirror image. James. Jimmy. And she doesn’t know what’s real and what isn’t. If she’s having sex with one of them or both of them or no one at all. 

He’s not gone. That much she feels in her bones, in her soul. He’s locked away from them somewhere. Unable to find them in the warded house or the command center. But very much still fighting to come back. As long as Harry is alive, so is his other half. They can’t exist without each other. And she’s afraid she can’t exist without either of them. 

In the bright light of day, she wants to push Harry for answers. Demand he open up about what he knows, what he feels. But he’s still as buttoned up as he used to be beneath his suits. Scared to let any wild emotion free…to show her anything that might remind her of the other him, his darker self.

The only place they show each other the truth is her bed.

Maybe he knows that. His cheeks redden when their hands brush as they both reach for the almond milk in the morning. He stammers, more so than usual, as they regroup with her sisters over everything they’ve learned so far. He can barely meet her eyes…but when he does, his gaze is filled with longing. And heat. So much heat.

_Do you dream of me, too? Do you dream of him? Of us?_ The questions die on her tongue. Even after everything, she’s too embarrassed to ask them. So, she goes to sleep that night and seeks the answers there. From his knuckles brushing her cheek. From his mouth on her throat. From the ghost of James pushing her wrists over her head and licking his way down her body. From feeling cherished and ravished and wanted and loved. 

“Macy. My dearest Macy.” The whisper against the sensitive hollow behind her ear almost sounds real. “I’ve waited so long for you.”

She anchors her fingers in his damp hair, licks the sheen of his exertion off his skin. “You don’t have to wait anymore, Harry. I’m here. I’m right here.”

He stills above her. Stills inside her. Shock filling his painfully familiar eyes. It’s in that moment that she realizes her own aren’t closed. That fantasy has somehow melted into reality. There is a flesh and blood Whitelighter clasped between her thighs…already scrambling to pull out. “Oh, God. Macy. I…I must have orbed in my sleep…I…” He stammers apologies, hefting his weight off her with his elbows. All British fuss and mortification.

“No.” She does the only thing she can. She tightens her hold. Arms around his neck. Legs around his hips. Tilting so his erection sinks into her depths again. “Don’t leave me,” she tells him fiercely. “Not again. I can’t…I can’t handle it if you leave me again.”

If he rejects her, turns away from her, pretends this never happened…Macy feels the flames racing up her spine and down her arms. Heating her palms. Her demon powers surging along with her anguish. 

An answering fire blooms in his gaze, turning the soft gray-green of his irises into something dark and primal. Hungry and possessive. This is the way the Darklighter looked at her…but it’s Harry. Only Harry. Her Harry. “Never,” he vows. “I would _never_ leave you.”

He seals the promise with a kiss. A real kiss. Not something stolen or imagined. It’s not gentlemanly. Not restrained. Not sweet nor soft. Just his lips and tongue claiming hers. Desperate and passionate and hard and hot. Like his cock thrusting into her anew. With both of them conscious and aware and consenting. 

“Never,” he repeats with each slap of their pelvises. “Never, never, never.”

“Always,” she moans in response, rising to meet him as flame races through her once more and consumes them both. “This is always.”

They awaken together hours later, sticky and sated, shy and full of awkward wonder.

With the echo of the assassin’s laughter ringing in their ears.

“May I?” James asks before he pulls them close.

-end-


End file.
